All the Little Things
by Solas-Divided
Summary: All the Little Things It was all the little things that tore them apart, but can all those little things bring them together again? Angst, ChallengeFic, COMPLETE, Language, M/F, Oneshot


This was a V-Day challenge for hermionesirius challenge. Hope you guys like it.

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All the Little Things

"I'm getting married."

Funny how those three little words could destroy a man's world. He hadn't even realized such a thing was possible. How could she be moving on when he was still wallowing in the aftershock of their torn relationship? Had she even mourned for the year they spent together and lost? Somehow, it didn't seem like it, because there she was, standing in the middle of the parlor they once shared together, clad in his favorite dress, telling him she was getting married to another man after only six months since leaving him.

"Say something," she whispered.

What was there to say? She was moving on. He should be happy, he supposed, but he wasn't, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

"What do you want me to say?" he finally muttered, sucking down the last of his cigarette and stabbing the butt into the ashtray next to his elbow.

She shrugged, her small hands twisting around the handbag clutched tightly in front of her. "I want you to come."

He snorted, reaching for the pack of smokes on the table and pulling another one between his lips. "I can hardly wait."

His sarcasm was met with a frown he knew all too well. "We used to be friends, Sirius!"

"If you were any kind of friend, you wouldn't be asking me to come and watch you give yourself to another man only months after leaving me."

She flinched a little.

Good.

"It's on Friday if you change your mind," she said after a minute.

"I'll write it in my calendar," he muttered, reaching for his lighter.

She turned to leave, but paused at the door, and with one hand on the doorframe, she glanced back over her shoulder at him.

"Do you remember our last fight?"

In the process of studying the glossy, silver lighter as if it were the most interesting thing on the planet, he nodded. How could he forget? That was the day he let her walk out of his life like the true coward he was.

"Do you remember what it was about?"

He shook his head. But whatever it was, it just didn't seem so important now.

She chuckled faintly. "Me neither," she whispered so softly he almost didn't hear it.

And for the second time, he let her walk out without stopping her. He sat staring at the lighter, watching his own reflection peering back at him from the surface.

In his mind, he wondered where they'd gone wrong. They had once had a relationship to be envious of. Their names were interlinked and never spoken apart. People spoke of them as if they were one person. Now, they could barely step into the same room without filling it with tension. No one spoke their names in front of the other and everyone tiptoed around the subject as if mentioning it could somehow cause the world to cease spinning.

But seriously, where had they gone wrong? And he realized it had been all the little things that tore them apart.

She read too much. He smoked too much. She was too serious. He wasn't serious enough. She ate crackers in bed. He never screwed the toothpaste cap back into place. She left her wet towels on the floor. He left the toilet seat up.

It was funny how all those little things could fester and create something so ugly, especially when all those things had once been so endearing to him.

He used to love watching her read. He loved how engrossed she'd become in the pages. Her sensibility, practicality and maturity were all the things that had always gone so well with his immaturity, mischievousness and reckless behavior. And who gave a fuck? They were just towels, nothing worth losing her over.

But that particular day, she'd just gotten home from work. He knew straight away that something was bothering her. He just couldn't remember how it all started. He might have mentioned something about going out for dinner instead of her cooking anything, and things had just skyrocketed from there. She accused him of not liking her cooking and not taking her seriously, and he told her to go to bed to which she responded that she was the mature one and didn't need to take a nap. It might have been amusing if it hadn't ended with her packing her things and walking out.

How stupid they were. Had it been worth it?

No, nothing was worth the pain he suffered that night alone in bed. He'd tossed and turned for hours before pulling out the largest bottle of whiskey he could find and poisoning himself into a blissful, alcohol-induced coma.

Most of the next six months went the same way. Every memory, every flicker of her image in his head was quickly doused with the strongest beverage he could get his hands on. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it worked – until sobriety returned.

Now this. How was he supposed to cope? His Hermione… married to someone else. How was that even possible? Who was going to scour the beach with him at sunset? Or share a bottle of wine by the fireplace? There would be no more breakfast in bed. No more walks in the park. It was all officially over. His life was officially over.

****

"You don't have to do this," Ginny Weasley said softly from behind her while she clasped the little buttons lining the back of Hermione's wedding dress. "There's still time to--"

"What for? There's no reason why I shouldn't move on. He clearly has."

"He's miserable, Hermione!"

Hermione sighed, staring at the stranger in the mirror. "Not miserable enough to stop me obviously."

"Is that what this is all about?" Ginny demanded, stomping around to stand in front of her, blue eyes flashing. "You think that accepting the first marriage proposal that comes your way will somehow make him leap into action, storm into the ceremony and sweep you off your feet? It's not going to happen!"

Hermione shook her head, ashamed that that was exactly what she'd hoped. "I don't care anymore. Sirius is free to make his own choices. Viktor makes me happy and—"

"Who are you trying to kid? You've been as miserable as him these past few months! Just… talk to him!"

"Talk to him about what? There's nothing else left to say! He made all his feelings clear that night."

"You mean the night you both decided to give up?"

"We didn't give up."

They hadn't! It just wasn't meant to be. They were just too different.

"I don't know, arguing and then walking away before you could resolve the issue seems to me like giving up."

Maybe they had given up too easily. But didn't that say something about how they were not meant to be together? Had Sirius loved her, he would never have let her walk out of that house that night. Had their relationship meant anything, he would have fought harder to keep her.

"The same goes for you, you know."

Hermione started, turning to the younger woman. "Did I say that out loud?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, but I've heard this speech a million times already. I know what you're thinking, but this isn't some olden-day romance novel where the guy has to gallop after the girl and beg for her forgiveness! You're not exactly faultless in all this. You had a million chances to go back and try to talk things out, but you're both too stubborn! Now, you're making the biggest mistake of your life and… and… you make me so crazy! I just want to hit you!" she finished, practically screaming.

Hermione stared at her friend, wide-eyed and stunned by the frustration and concern brewing hot across the younger witch's face.

"He doesn't want me back!" she said finally. "He had plenty of time to find me—"

"When did you become so dependent on a man, Hermione? I never took you for the type to wait for a man to take the first step!"

Usually she wasn't, but with Sirius…

"I just want to know he loves me," she whispered. "What if I make a complete fool of myself and… I'd be devastated if he turned me away."

"He won't turn you away! The man is crazy about you!"

He didn't seem so crazy about her when she'd gone to see him. He'd looked annoyed and frustrated. But more than that, he looked sad, weary and underfed. It had made her want to pull him into her arms and comfort him.

"What if he does?"

"He won't! Hey, wait, where are you going!" Ginny shouted when Hermione grabbed up her skirt and ran for the door.

"To see if you're right!" she shouted over her shoulder before disappearing out the door.

"What do I tell Viktor?"

"I'm sorry!"

She could have sworn she heard Ginny whoop loudly, but she couldn't be sure as she thundered down the hall and out the back doors of the church. No one noticed her, not even when she circled the gray, stone building and raced across the street.

She didn't give herself time to think. She knew it would do her no good if she let her mind in on what was happening. The logical thing would be to stop and consider the pros and cons of what she was doing and… she just couldn't afford to do that right now. Rejected or not, she needed to know if Sirius still wanted her, if there was even the slightest possibility that they could make it work again. Heaven knew how much she'd missed him these past few months.

Legs pumping with adrenaline, she bolted through the park leading to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. She could just make out the faint outline of the townhouses on the other side of the sturdy bridge. The sight of it nearly made her weep as memories of their first kiss flooded her mind. How could she have forgotten? She'd been so nervous and excited, peering up into his handsome face as he pulled her into his arms and stole her heart along with her breath.

No, she couldn't just let that go, let him go. Whatever their problems, they'd work it out. It wasn't worth losing him. All the little stupid things that had once seemed so important meant nothing if she didn't have him to share them with.

"Oh, Sirius, please be there!" she panted, pushing a little faster.

She'd just reached the bridge when the hum of something large and feral pierced the air. She staggered to a stop just as a familiar shape came hurling around the bend, roaring at a break-neck pace straight towards her. The enormous black bike screeched to a halt, filling the air with the stench of burnt rubber. The large, dark owner swung off, tearing away and tossing aside the shiny, black helmet concealing the face she loved dearly.

"Sirius!" she gasped, no longer breathless just from her run but the sight of him.

He met her halfway when she lunged and threw herself into his arms. His arms clamped around her with the strength of steel, lifting her up into the air before setting her down, but not letting her go.

"I'm sorry," he breathed into her neck, his voice gruff. "I should have come for you sooner."

She shook her head, dampening his black shirt with her tears. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have said those things."

"You were right though. I am immature and fickle."

"But those are things I love about you," she protested, drawing back to peer into his face. "You always make me laugh and… even when I'm down, you always know what to say to make it better… I've missed you so much!"

He cupped the side of her face, brushing the curve of her cheek with his thumb while peering deep into her watery eyes. "I've missed you too, baby."

"Do you still want me?" she whispered, biting her bottom lip with uncertainty.

He smiled slightly. "I'll always want you. I always have and I always will. But what about your fiancé? Shouldn't you be getting married right now?"

She nodded, looking down. "I couldn't, not when my heart belongs to you. Besides, Viktor never wanted to marry me ether. It was a business proposition between us."

Sirius arched a brow. "Excuse me?"

Hermione blushed faintly. "He needed a cover for his interests in the same sex to avoid ridicule from his teammates and the public and I… I was lonely."

His arms tightened around her. "Well, you won't be lonely anymore and I'm not letting you marry anyone else – except me."

Her breath caught at the dark glint in his gray eyes. "What are you doing here, Sirius?" she asked in a soft whisper.

"I was on my way to crash your wedding," he replied, no remorse in his tone, just a steely matter-of-factness. "I even contemplated beating the groom to a pulp while I was at it. Then I was going to carry you out of that church, kicking and screaming if necessary."

Hermione chuckled, touching his stubbly cheek. "That wouldn't have been necessary. I would have come willingly."

He turned his lips into her palm, sending electric shivers up her arm. "We still need to talk about all those little things that came between us."

Hermione nodded. "I know."

"Because I'm not letting them get in our way again," he continued, bending down and lifting her into his arms. "As it stands, you're going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life by this afternoon."

Her brow arched as her arms found their way around his neck. "Is that so?"

He nodded, striding to his bike. "Yup. I'm taking you to the Ministry right now and we're getting married."

Her heart leapt and her arms tightened around him, but she sighed, feigning frustration. "Well, I suppose I am dressed for the occasion."

He nodded again, and set her down on the bike. He took her face in his hands and made her peer up into his solemn expression.

"Is this what you want, Hermione? Tell me now if it's not, because once you have my name, I'm never letting you go."

Hermione nodded, tears trickling down her face. "Promise?"

Face darkening, he kissed her, hard, devouring any protest she may have had before pulling back and straddling the bike in front of her.

"Don't let go, baby!"

And she never did.


End file.
